The Call
by Number1Bookworm
Summary: Sherlock was always there when they needed him the most, they might not have known it, but he was always there.


**I don't own Sherlock, or any content and characters**

_It started out as a feeling  
Which then grew into a hope  
Which then turned into a quiet thought  
Which then turned into a quiet word  
And then that word grew louder and louder  
'Til it was a battle cry  
I'll come back when you call me  
No need to say goodbye…_

No one knows it, but Molly is the bravest, the strongest of them all. She had to watch her friends cry, not eating, or sleeping, hardly breathing. She could end their suffering with two words, but she didn't. It would selfish of her, she'd be happy and they'd be dead.

Molly remembered seeing him after he fell, his face paler than newly fallen snow. Crimson blood splattered across his cheek, he wasn't conscious, barely alive. She tended to his wounds, cleaned his face, kept him as a secret as John mourned.

He'd awoken, quietly he slipped away in the darkness of night. He left a note, she could call him and he'd come, no matter the miles. She got low one night, drank too much. The pain and the pressure was too much.

Sherlock was on speed-dial he didn't pick up, so she left a message, she couldn't remember what it said. She woke up the next morning, wrapped up in bed. Her head was stuffy, her throat felt dry, her stomach flopped.

Molly stumbled to her feet. A wave of dizziness forced her over, she felt as if she was going to throw up. After a moment, she got to her feet, and walked in as straight of a line as she could manage. All the blinds were closed. A bacon sandwich was on one of her white plates, a cup of water beside it.

The sandwich was still warm and the water still cold. Sherlock had been there, she knew that. He had been there when she needed him the most.

_Just because everything's changing  
Doesn't mean it's never been this way before _

A heavy weight settled in Mycroft's heart. He told Sherlock not to care, feelings were a disadvantage, a cure he had rid himself of and Sherlock would be wise to do the same.

He saw now how much of a hypocrite he really was. One thing was true though, feelings really were a disadvantage; He hadn't been at work for weeks, he was late on paying bills. His hair was disheveled. One morning he awoke to the ringing of a phone, an automated voice thanked him for paying his bills.

Mycroft rushed to his window and he could have sworn he saw a flash of tailcoats, but he must have been wrong, Sherlock was dead, but someone had been there when he needed them the most.

_All you can do is try to know who your friends are  
As you head off to the war  
Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light  
You'll come back when it's over  
No need to say goodbye  
You'll come back when it's over  
No need to say goodbye _

John might have died, he almost did . Every time he closed his eyes he saw Sherlock, his blood. No pulse, he'd sometimes put to fingers to his own wrist and wonder how his shredded heart could still beat. He found his star, after all, though, his shining star. His Mary, the love of his life.

She told him that he cried out in his sleep. She never told him she always thought she saw a shadowy figure following them sometimes, she always had an "active imagination" .

Then came the day when John got down on one knee. After the that, the day John bought his shoes. Lastly, the day when Mary finally got to wear her pretty white dress. John didn't have a best man and wouldn't tell Mary why.

He wished Sherlock could see him now, as he said, "I do" and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure standing in between the trees, but the real Sherlock was gone. What mattered that A Sherlock was there when he needed him most.

_Now we're back to the beginning  
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet  
But just because they can't feel it too  
Doesn't mean that you have to forget  
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger  
'Til they're before your eyes_

Sherlock walked into the restaurant, how the years have John. Memories flashed in his mind palace, running with John, a burst of "emotions" ripping through his chest. Sherlock felt torn in half. For all his years alone, he needed to be there for himself when he needed it the most.

_You'll come back when they call you  
No need to say goodbye  
You'll come back when they call you  
No need to say goodbye _

John walk away from the grave, he could still feel the cool stone beneath his fingertips. Science told him that muscles don't droop, but his heart proved it all wrong.

**Thanks for reading, please review!**


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